


How The Mighty Fall

by The_Inebriated_Literary_Virtuoso



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Jim's POV, Other, The Fall - Freeform, i was bored
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:30:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Inebriated_Literary_Virtuoso/pseuds/The_Inebriated_Literary_Virtuoso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fall from season two from Jim Moriarty's point of view. Only a oneshot</p>
            </blockquote>





	How The Mighty Fall

**Author's Note:**

> I thought it would be fun to write this. (: I did it for my friend, Morgan. Hope you like it!

It wasn’t as though no one saw it coming. Surely Sherlock had pieced it together long before all the others. Jim enjoyed when his prey fought back. He enjoyed a pet who could think fast.

“Look at all of you,” he said from the top of St. Bart’s, “you are all pathetic. You have no idea what is going on around you. What it must be like to have miniscule minds. That’s why it’s so easy to manipulate you.”

“Talking to yourself again, are you?”

Jim turned around slowly. “Seb, what have I told you before?” he drawled.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “I am well aware of your adamant protests to me being here during a . . . _transaction_ , but if I may ask, what exactly do you intend to do with Sherlock Holmes?”

Moriarty turned towards the street again, his eyes saw everything. He wanted a fair game. He wanted something that could fight back with just as much cunning as he had. All those dots on the street were worthless, useless and wasted. He wanted to play a game. He searched the city of London with his eyes. He couldn’t see him, but he knew he was coming. His little game couldn’t keep him away.

“Destroy him.”

 

 

**_Tick Tock_ **

 

Sherlock was talking. They were talking. It was so absolutely dreadful. He just wanted to play with his toy. He enjoyed watching Sherlock deduce things, and try to find a way to save his friends. He enjoyed watching him fight for something that was already gone.

 

**_Tick Tock_ **

 

Now Sherlock was being no fun. Sacrificing his life for his friends? Boring! Trying to figure out how to kill him? Outdone. Dear, Jim had thought he was original. It seems he really was a phony just like he led the rest of the world to believe. It was fun, though, watching him realize there really was no way out. Jim loved that perplexed gleam in his eyes. He loved watching him struggle.

 

**_Tick Tock_ **

 

Sherlock was going to jump. He was going to play Jim’s little game. This is what he ached for. He was lusting for it. He was lusting for the feeling of finally devouring his prey.

 

**_Tick Tock_ **

 

He had “shot” himself. He was watching as the snipers closed in his friends. It was fun, watching this little game come to a close even as Sherlock struggled to find solution. And that phone call to John? Oh well, didn’t that just break his heart. He watched Sherlock as he struggled, his little lamb finally caught in the slaughter.

 

**_Tick tock_ **

 

He watched as a mass of curly black hair and an overcoat toppled over the side of St. Bart’s. He had won the game, as he always did.

He got up, and called off the assassins.

He watched John Watson panic over his friend as he got into a cab. He pulled out his phone.

Until next time. -JM


End file.
